


Not Quite 16 Ways to (Maybe) Become a Vampire Hunter

by donutsweeper



Category: 16 Ways to Kill a Vampire at McDonalds (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Drabble Sequence, Gen, possibilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-18 20:15:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12395412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donutsweeper/pseuds/donutsweeper
Summary: There are many ways one might become a vampire hunter.





	Not Quite 16 Ways to (Maybe) Become a Vampire Hunter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eida](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eida/gifts).



> Play the game 16 Ways to Kill a Vampire at McDonalds [here](http://ifdb.tads.org/viewgame?id=s8oklhvdqoo5dv4l)
> 
> Thanks to werewolfinatophat for the beta!

Okay, so it turns out that when you get a bunch of vampire hunters together and get them all talking, you discover that most of them have a (vaguely) similar story as to how they wound up deciding that taking out vamps and other creepy crawlies on a regular basis was a valid idea for a career choice. Usually it's a "There I was, minding my own business when…" kind of story. Well, they always start kind of the same way, at least. Where they go from there though? That's always a bit different and that's where things get interesting.

Maybe it goes along the lines of you craving a cigarette but the building's nonsmoking so you head to the nearest alley to get your fix. It's something you've done hundreds of times before and other than some bad weather it's never been a problem. Until the time you nearly get molested by some asshole who suddenly bursts into flames when, while trying to get away, you accidentally smack him in the face with the Star of David you wear on a chain around your neck. One deep google dive later and suddenly you have a new calling in life.

Maybe you stumble into the middle of a slaying. Sure, there are some people who might ignore a trio of decapitations taking place in an elementary school playground, but you have questions and while the 'snicker-snack' noise the machetes made is disturbing, the fact it was a pair of five foot nothing woman taking on, and taking down, three creepy older guys has you standing your ground instead of running when the women notice you. When they approach, you remain calm and ask what the hell is going on. For good or bad, your future is settled when they explain.

Maybe you're like Claire and one moment you're working the late shift at your boring, minimum wage fast food job, doing your best to ignore the creepy vibes coming from the guy in the booth and the weird drinking straw crosses another customer is making when suddenly the latter grabs the former and he screams and turns to dust. You unsurprisingly freak the fuck out, but she calms you down. You ask what the hell happened and she takes your hand and makes sure you really want to know. You do, so she tells you and the rest is history.

Maybe one evening finds your typical jog turning into a flat-out run when suddenly you're being chased by a group of people moving faster than anyone should be able to. You veer off the path, trying for a quicker way back to the parking lot, when you run smack into the Christmas tree lot the scouts had set up earlier that day and crash headfirst into the wreaths display. The wreaths scatter everywhere, landing on your pursuers, who shriek in terror before they burst into flames. After a minor heart attack you pull out your phone and do some research.

Maybe your boyfriend inherited this amazing looking sword. A great great aunt claims it's magical with an incredible story behind it, but she's in her nineties and everyone thinks she's crazy. It looks great hanging on the wall though and neither of you gives it a second thought until he's attacked right outside your home; you can't find your phone but the sword is _right there_. So you grab it, hoping waving it around will scare off the attacker but when the sword accidentally touches her she screams and bursts into flames. Huh. Perhaps it's time to visit Aunt Signe.

Maybe college isn't really working out and you're desperately trolling through the want ads and Craigslist trying to find something to do with your life when you come across the listing "✭Freelance Vampire Hunters Wanted✭ Start Today!!!" Between the three exclamation points and the stars the whole thing seems a bit excessive but compared to the rest of the page shilling Uber and Lyft and five different food delivery companies it's at least interesting enough to warrant a click. It doesn't give a salary, only stating the compensation is weekly, but it's full-time work so you call the number provided.

Maybe you are out minding your own business, heading home from the movies, when you meet a handsome stranger with mesmerizing eyes. Before you can process what's going on two things happen in succession. He bites your neck and someone pulls him off you, plunging a stake into his chest, turning him to dust. You wake up in the hospital but no one believes you when you say you got attacked by a monster. You remember what the guy who saved you looks like so you decide, once you're healed up, to do whatever it takes to track him down.

Maybe someone tries to attack you from behind when you're hauling the trash out one night. You're quick on your feet and jump to the side and without even stopping to think about it you're kicking them, smacking them against the dumpster. Before they can react you grab the lid and slam it down on their head. The idea had been to knock them out so you can call the police but instead you wind up decapitating them. Which... what the fuck? You stare at the head for a good five minutes before noticing the fangs. Wait a minute, fangs?

Maybe you're a janitor, earning some extra dough cleaning the parish offices when you come across several priests blessing huge buckets of water before emptying them into dozens of supersoakers. Your curiosity is piqued but you're not the prying sort; before you can slip away you're spotted and given one "just in case" with orders to keep it on you at all times. You think they're nuts, but don't want to offend which turned out to be a good thing when you're attacked later. Desperate, you use the water gun and your assailant _melts_. That night you ask your questions.

Maybe you're the sole survivor of a vampire attack and it's sheer, dumb luck you just happen to be in the bathtub when an entire nest's worth of vamps enter the frat looking for an easy snack. You're frozen in fear and leave the water running so by the time one finds you the tub's overflowing and water is cascading down the sides and onto the floor. The blood-covered vampire only takes one step into the bathroom before seeing the state of the floor and fleeing. The cops don't believe your story, but the research you do afterwards is enlightening. 

Maybe it's the wee hours of the morning and you're prepping the dough when you spot a teenager being chased by a bunch of older guys. You offer to call the police while they hide in the bakery. Once inside they grab the jar of decorative sugar and toss half of it into the street. You're about to complain when the group of creeps stops short to start... counting? You ask why they did that but they tell you to wait. Forty minutes later the sun peeks over the horizon and the guys burst into flame. You demand that explanation.

Maybe your story's more along the lines of meeting up with an old friend for drinks and badgering them to tell you what they do for a living nowadays. At first you don't believe them when they claim to kill monsters, but they offer to prove to you that they aren't lying and you figure, eh, what the hell, whatever BS they're trying to sell should be good for a laugh. Except they were telling the truth and suddenly your data entry job seems very boring in comparison and you ask if you can tag along on their next hunt.

Sure, a lot of times it's a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or, Lucy supposes, the right place at the right time, depending on how you think your life turned out. Lucy, for one, is firmly in the latter camp. She loves the job. The pay may be crap and the benefits nonexistent, but she saves people. Everyday. And has a hell of a lot of fun doing it. So how did a girl like her get embroiled in the profession herself? Maybe one of the ways above, maybe not. The possibilities are endless.


End file.
